When the Dead Are With You

Many people tell me they believe their dead loved ones are still with them. They draw comfort from their presence, and almost see their loved ones right there beside them.

Spirits, or ghosts, have been around for a very long time. In movies and stories, they’ve been perceived as something to be feared. I don’t believe that’s a good representation. I like the line from the song, Ghostbusters. I ain’t afraid of no ghost.

At the four piano and voice recitals I hosted this month, my grandfather, Homer, was in attendance at two of them. He’s been dead for forty years, so I’m not sure why he showed up. It could be that he thought I needed his support.

Spirits come to me as I work on murder cases, when their movements provide me with information. In my life outside of that work, I see ghosts now and then. When I do, they’re nebulous and wavy, and sometimes morph in and out of looking like a real, live person. More often than not, it isn’t someone I know. 

If you have an interest in feeling or seeing spirits, or if you want to hear from your dead loved ones, you have to open that door. When you do hear your loved one’s voice, it might feel like a memory, but it’s often accompanied by a message from the person who has passed. Maybe you’ll feel strange or eerie, but you can do this. You don’t need me to connect with your loved ones who have died. With energy and concentration, you can listen and hear, and maybe even see for yourself.

Music's Path to Emotions

We all time travel through the use of music. When I hear the Temptations, I’m in high school. Elvis evokes my Uncle Fred, who slicked his hair back just like him. Any 80s music makes me think of my daughter, and the 90s, my son. I have songs that bring memories of old friends and past boyfriends. When my voice students sing Oh What a Beautiful Morning, I’m riding the horse I used to own.

Opera transports me to my vocal concerts at Penn State. With jazz, I’m singing Summertime in the dark bar where I played during my brief foray as a single act. Joan Jett? I’m practicing with my all-girl band, Susie Creamcheese, that never got off the ground.

You listen to music and you’re lost in time and space. A forgotten song evokes tears, joy, or the memory of a long dead relative.

Use music to lighten your load, to laugh and love. Use it to bring peace to your wounded soul. Make it yourself, or listen to records. Music never disappoints. It always evokes a mood and a path. Treat yourself. It’s free. 

Go for the Goosebumps

When I do readings for clients, I know I’m on the right track when I get the goose bump skin that comes from emotional stimulus. When I teach voice lessons, I stress accurate pitch, and then I discuss how important it is to make the audience feel something. I tell them, give yourself goose bumps and the audience will get them too.

Some people are more prone to emotional chills than others. There is some scientific evidence that your personality can affect how often you get the chills. A 2007 paper published in the journal Motivation and Emotion found openness to experience, which is someone who is game to try new foods, adventures and different ideas, was a marker of getting the chills more frequently.

According to Matthew Sachs, a researcher at the University of Southern California who conducted a 2017 study, people who get the chills seem to have an enhanced ability to experience intense emotions. Sachs’ research, which was published in Social Cognitive and Affective Neuroscience, indicated that those who experience a strong emotional response to music and then get chills may do so because their brains are wired differently.

Those who are very rigid and structured, as well as less curious and imaginative, and anyone blocked by trauma, depression, anxiety and mental struggles, likely won’t experience this dopamine rush and the subsequent chills as frequently.

I do believe it’s a good idea that when you get the chills, you pay attention. Something real is happening.

The Arts: Portals to Intuition

The arts act as portals into intuition throughout the year. At holidays, they sneak into gift choices and pleasant activities. 

When I was a child, Santa brought me books. Except for two gifts, the baby doll that 34 years later looked like my son, and my favorite Betty Crocker Junior Baking Kit, books were my best presents. Stories meant I could lose myself in the past or the future. That letting go spurred me to move outside my body into other realms, to help me perform music and work on murder cases with police. 

In school, I was a poor artist who couldn’t relax, but as I practiced piano, I could pretend to waltz in a white French wig, or come alive in the hills of Germany with the Sound of Music.

Now, when I prepare for my psychic work, I use music as a portal. You know how music transports you to other feelings and places? That’s what I use, that floating ability to let go of the here and now, to carry my brain away from the confines of exactness.

At the holidays, I use intuition and insight when I choose a gift for a loved one, and when I sing songs or tell old stories. Every year, my perception is altered by the people around me and my own unique mind set.

At the end of this year, let us bring love and intuition to the forefront. As they said in the 1960s, hang a little bit loose and stay groovy.

Children and the Paranormal

One sunny afternoon, as I did readings at a Renaissance Fair, a woman sat down and leaned in close. She said, my children are special but I want you to tell me if I’m wrong. Look at their palms.

With at least one hundred hours of study, I felt ready to do palm interpretations and condense everything I learned into their five minute session. That day, those beautiful, odd but bedraggled boy and girl opened their palms to me and I saw what she meant. Their palms were covered with stars. Big stars, little stars, perfect stars, misshapen stars. I felt such shock.

Stars on the palm represent fame, success, the ability to deal with challenges, and exceptional creative abilities. Those children, with dark hair and light eyes that bore into my soul, knew and accepted that they were unusual.

Children know. They learn quickly and they try to please us, but each child knows early in life who they are and who they want to be. Look at your sister and brother, if you have one, or an early childhood friend. Other than maturity, aren’t they the same as they were as a child, with unchanged strengths and weaknesses?

A paranormal child is not scientifically explainable. Any child’s behavior can’t be explained, as their funny word usage and quirky behavior delight us. Without the knowledge of classes and maturity, how a child hones intellect is nothing short of a miracle.

Take a page from a child’s book. Look at the world with thankful wonder, and believe that you know, because you do.

Body Intuition

We know our own body better than we know anyone else. It’s our own little house of safety. I liken mine to an old car. Slow to start some days, other times it runs just fine. It’s in the shop a lot, but my doctor/mechanic fixes the problem. That concept helped me adapt after someone keyed my brand new Subaru with eight slashes.

That day, I had a premonition that told me to park far away from the street, but when I couldn’t find a spot, I ignored the voice in my head. At the end of my holistic expo event, I spotted the damage, sat in my car and cried. You see, for fifty years I drove small, inexpensive cars. This was my first nice one and I felt way too much pride in it.

The following day my optimism kicked in. The inside of my car felt exactly the same, with its backup camera and heated seats.  At the body shop, a kind man said he’d improve the nastiness. “Until then,” he said, “don’t look at this side.”

My body is my true vehicle. When I had a red spot on my nose that started to hurt, I rushed to the dermatologist. He told me I caught it in time, as he burned off the cancer.

When our body has a problem, we usually know instinctively, as it hollers at us to pay attention. We change the oil (water and food) and put it in the shop for repairs (doctors and specialists). It’s the only one we have, our very own brain home, and it means a whole lot and sometimes a little. We just have to remember to use our intuition to know when to fix it.

Promote a Job or Just Do It?

We’re all good at a few things. One of my relatives is a master gardener who never worked in that field. A young Facebook friend transforms her face with make-up, like in the movies. A music teacher who rents space where I do is so talented that when I can, I open my sound proof door to hear his guitar’s sweetness. Yet, he seldom plays in public. It seemed a shame, until I realized that all his students get to hear him, and learn from him. These people do, not promote.

At a summer party, I met a 30-something man who pushed everyone to invest their money with him. He drove a flashy car and had a flashy mouth, and I found out later he lost money for many clients. He promoted and didn’t do.

Next month I’m giving a speech at the Harrisburg, PA Spirit of Oneness holistic expo. My topic is Murder: What It’s Like to Be a Psychic Detective. I guess, here and now, this seems like the promote part, while mostly in the past, I’d do, but that’s not why I included it here.

The things we’re good at don’t have to be shared. I didn’t start working on murder cases until I was 40, yet I knew all my life I had the ability. At 55, I decided not to stay silent, and promoted my skill set. Some days I regret that decision.

Work is not all about promotion. It’s about the accomplishment you feel and the drive to do something for yourself, not just for others. We all have talents we share, and ones we keep private. It’s important to do first, then think whether promotion works for you.